


used to lick your shoes

by yeolocity



Series: taeyong’s hot dad summer [3]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dilf!Johnny, M/M, Pining, Quickies, Y'all already know what this is, do i really even have to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:22:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23321632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeolocity/pseuds/yeolocity
Summary: taeyong swallows, the air around him suddenly much too thick. mr and mrs park are sat on the sofa directly in front of taeyong, his mother beside them. to his right sits mark, patting the open spot on the other sofa next to him, and in the la-z-boy chair in the far corner sits mr seo, a glass of red wine held halfway to his lips.their eyes meet and taeyong’s whole body goes hot, his lips trembling as he exhales. mr seo looks—god, he looks better than he ever has, with wire framed glasses perched on his nose, dark hair run through with gray at his temples like tinsel, lips red as his wine.
Relationships: Lee Taeyong/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Series: taeyong’s hot dad summer [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1434112
Comments: 63
Kudos: 987





	used to lick your shoes

**Author's Note:**

> title from [zaddy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lQEGZwi2Zjo) by suggi

if there’s one thing taeyong still has yet to get used to about college, it’s the parties.

he’s adjusted well to his classes, found a schedule that works well for him, and he’s even gotten pretty close with his roommate, jaehyun, but the one thing he can’t really seem to get adjusted to is the sheer amount of alcohol and bad decisions that his fellow undergrads get into.

now don’t get him wrong—taeyong’s not a saint my any means, he  _ likes  _ to get drunk at parties, he’s even got a good ass fake id that gets him into even the  _ nice  _ bars around campus—but he’s not the type to go out every night. he prefers to keep his own bad decisions relegated to saturday nights, but sometimes he gets roped into going out to parties he’d never have gone to by his own volition, dragged there by jaehyun.

the party he’s at now is hosted by a group of people he kind of knows from the few meetings he’d gone to for the campus’s korean student association, in celebration of the upcoming winter break. there’s a few people here that he recognizes from his classes, but for the most part, he’s sat in a circle playing a rousing game of “never have i ever” with a bunch of random people he doesn’t know, nursing a cup half full of jungle juice.

and  _ god,  _ he’s fucking  _ drunk.  _

“wait, wait, wait, i got—i got one!”

the girl to taeyong’s left—joy, or something. he thinks they have intro to econ together—spills her drink as she thrusts it forward, a slurred challenge on her lips: “never have i ever fucked someone more than ten—“ she hiccups, “—ten years older than me!”

a murmur goes through the circle of people, everyone eyeing each other to see who’s gonna take a drink, who they can pounce on and press for  _ more,  _ the game having taken on a much more scandalous edge that it had when it started.

taeyong struggles with the mental math for a moment, but then he lifts his cup and takes a long sip. 

he’s the only one in the group that drinks, and joy is the first to notice, calling him out with a cackle and another slosh of her drink.

“taeyong drank, oh my god!” joy squeals. “he’s a milf hunter!”

“dilf hunter, more like,” taeyong says, unthinkingly. joy balks at him, eyes wide.

“oh my  _ god!”  _ she exclaims, falling into a fit of giggles.

“we need the story, give us the story!”

“um,” taeyong falters, cheeks hot with the realization that suddenly, all eyes are on him. “‘s’not really much of a story.”

“oh, come on!” jaehyun urges. he’s staring at taeyong from across the circle, with a blonde girl that taeyong doesn’t recognize seated on his lap. jaehyun’s pupils are blown and his own cheeks are flushed, from alcohol rather than embarrassment. “don’t hold out on us, taeyonggie.”

“yeah, taeyonggie,” the girl on jaehyun’s lap coos. taeyong rolls his eyes.

“fine, okay, whatever,” taeyong huffs, bringing his cup to his lips and knocking back what’s left inside. he grimaces, everclear burning away what’s left of his pride and dignity. liquid courage replenished, taeyong squares his shoulders and says, without shame, “i fucked my best friend’s dad.”

for the briefest moment, taeyong’s admission is met with silence, a modicum of calm before the crowd of

people around him burst into an uproar of chatter.

“no way! no  _ way,  _ i’m calling bullshit!” says joy, sticking an accusatory finger into taeyong’s shoulder. “you’re lying!”

“why would he lie about that?” says irene, a girl taeyong knows from ksa, sat on his right. she reaches out a thin, primly manicured hand, and taps him lightly on the cheek. “that’s  _ scandalous,  _ though,” she jokes.

taeyong shrugs. “he was hot,” he says, like that’s that.

another wave of laughter disrupts the group, a few people slapping taeyong on the back, like a weird sort of congratulations. jaehyun ends up shoving another cup of jungle juice into taeyong’s hand and taeyong takes it gratefully. 

the game moves on now to the boy sitting to joy’s left, his turn now to pose a scenario. taeyong stares  down into his cup, his thoughts wandering as he stares at the amber colored slurry of a drink.

he thinks of mr seo, of  _ johnny,  _ of a hot summer and even  _ hotter  _ sex, of sun-warmed pool water and an achingly cold goodbye. taeyong drinks, and drinks some more.

he blacks out.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

the last week of classes before winter break comes and goes so fast that it’s like taeyong nearly blinks, and next thing he knows, he’s packing his bags and calling an uber to pick him up and take him to the train station to catch his train back home.

he and jaehyun had decided that jaehyun was going to come home with taeyong for winter break, since he lives across the country and his own family was going overseas for the holidays and, as jaehyun had so eloquently worded, he “didn’t want to have to drop a fuckton of money to fly back home and then have to sit bored as fuck at his grandparents’ house in the middle

of nowhere in jeju.”

taeyong’s parents had enthusiastically agreed to host jaehyun for the holidays when taeyong had asked them if it’d be okay, excited to meet one of taeyong’s friends from school. taeyong has a sneaking suspicion that his mom just wants to grill jaehyun for information on how taeyong’s acclimating, hopeful that jaehyun might divulge details that taeyong would not.

speaking of details that taeyong would never tell to his parents, taeyong forced jaehyun to swear to secrecy in regards to what he now knew about taeyong’s summer fling with mr seo. jaehyun had, as expected, pressed taeyong for more information the next day after the party, when they were alone and hungover in their dorm room, and taeyong had told him everything, with the stipulation that jaehyun would never speak a word of it to anyone else.

jaehyun had promised, with earnest eyes and a lock of their pinkies.

the train ride back home is only two and a half hours, and taeyong sleeps through the majority of it, airpods in and jaehyun drooling on his shoulder. the announcement of the train’s arrival wakes taeyong, groggy for a few moments before he comes to and nudges jaehyun to wake him up as well. 

the train rolls into their stop about fifteen minutes later, and taeyong texts his mom to let her know they’ve arrived. she texts back to let him know that she’s waiting for them in the main lobby of the train station, followed by a plethora of emojis that taeyong assumes means that she’s excited to see them.

they grab their bags from the overheads and make their way out of the traincar, and taeyong spots his mom not too long later. she spots him too, waving excitedly as he and jaehyun approach.

“my taeyonggie!” she exclaims, pulling him into a tight hug and kissing his cheek. she pulls back and frowns, squeezing at his sides. “you’re so skinny! are you eating enough? do we need to upgrade your meal plan?”

taeyong grabs her wrist, rolling his eyes fondly. “i’m eating, mom, i swear,” he says. he takes his chance to deflect from the subject, gesturing to jaehyun beside him. “this is my roommate i told you about, jaehyun.”

his mother’s attention is immediately diverted as she fawns over jaehyun, patting his cheeks and pulling him into a hug like she’s known him forever. it’s akin to the way she usually greets mark, and it makes taeyong warm to see jaehyun so quickly accepted into his mother’s graces. 

“come on, let’s get going!” his mother urges. “your father invited some people over for dinner, and they’re all so excited to see you.”

“ _ eomma,”  _ taeyong whines. 

“oh, quit it,” she waves of taeyong’s complaints with a wave of her hand. “it’s just the neighbors, the parks and mark and his father.”

taeyong’s face heats, and his heart starts to pound at the mention of mr seo. jaehyun meets his eye and lifts his eyebrow in question. taeyong nods, and jaehyun grimaces, mouthing  _ yikes.  _

the drive back home is filled with his mom’s excited chatter, and taeyong is sweating bullets at the thought of seeing johnny again so soon. he knew it’d happen eventually, but he thought he’d have more time to prepare and like, take a shower or something.

thankfully, nobody else besides taeyong’s father is at their house when they arrive, his mother having enough sense to give taeyong time to freshen up before he has to start mingling and answering the same repeated questions about how his classes are going, how he’s adapting, and if he misses home.

taeyong sighs as he finally closes the door to his bedroom, tossing his backpack onto the bed. jaehyun flops down into the papasan chair that’s in the corner, echoing taeyong’s exhalation. 

“dude,” jaehyun says, pulling out his phone, “you good?”

“yeah,” taeyong replies, following the path of his backpack onto the bed. “just wasn’t expecting my mom to invite the whole neighborhood over for dinner tonight.”

“he’s gonna be here, right?” jaehyun asks, and when taeyong frowns, jaehyun clarifies: “the dilf you fucked?”

taeyong’s cheeks flame.  _ “fuck,”  _ he curses, “yeah. he’ll be here.”

“awkward,” jaehyun says, grimacing sympathetically. 

“yeah,” taeyong agrees. “it wasn’t like, a bad breakup or anything but—fuck. it’s gonna be so weird to see him again.”

jaehyun makes a low noise of understanding, nodding almost too solemnly. “seeing ex hookups is always weird,” he says. “can’t imagine if my ex hookup was also my best friend’s  _ dad.” _

taeyong sighs. “yeah,” he says. “i didn’t really make the best judgement call on that one.”

jaehyun snorts. “clearly,” he says. “but whatever, dude. we’ll avoid your ex-dilf at all costs, and sneak into the liquor cabinet. your parents have a liquor cabinet, right?”

taeyong’s parents  _ do  _ have a liquor cabinet, and by the time the parks arrive and taeyong’s mother is carrying three bottles of wine into the den, taeyong has managed to sneak a nearly full bottle of tequila up to his room. jaehyun cheered when taeyong pulled the bottle out from where he’d tucked it in his hoodie, whooping and prompting taeyong to take a shot.

“in celebration of your success,” jaehyun says.

taeyong knocks back a shot straight from the bottle, grimacing at the burn. “ugh, that’s fucking gross. here,” he says, passing the bottle to jaehyun, who takes a large mouthful of his own.

“taeyong-ah, where did you go?” taeyong’s mother calls from down the hall, and taeyong scrambles to hide the bottle, stashing it under his pillow just as she pokes her head around the open door. “what are you two doing?” she asks. “mark and mr seo just got here. get changed and come downstairs.”

she leaves them with a stern flourish of her hand, and taeyong swallows hard. “fuck,” he says, grabbing the tequila out from where he stashed it and taking another swig. 

“come on, dude,” jaehyun says, motioning for taeyong to pass him the bottle. “it’s probably not even gonna be as bad as you think it is.”

taeyong sighs, handing the liquor off to jaehyun. “i know. i’m just—“ he makes a vague gesture with his hands—“trying to figure out how to go down there and say hi to him without feeling like i’m gonna puke all over his shoes.”

jaehyun snorts, knocking back another shot before he caps the bottle and stashes it under a few blankets piled up on the papasan chair. “damn, now i really wanna meet this dude,” he says. “i gotta know what kind of man can make the unflappable taeyong lee lose his shit.”

“shut up,” taeyong groans, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes until he sees stars. “i’m—fuck. i gotta find something to wear.”

black ripped jeans and a soft, oversized blue sweater is what taeyong settles on, fussing over himself in the mirror before jaehyun heaves a long suffering sigh and yanks taeyong out of the room. 

low chatter drifts its way up the stairs, and taeyong’s heart starts to thud faster, hearing mr seo’s deep, honey-smooth voice amongst the others. he heaves a breath and jaehyun claps him on the shoulder before they both make their way down the stairs.

taeyong’s mother has all of the guests gathered in the den, platters of various hors d’oeuvres set out amongst them. 

“ah, taeyong, jaehyun,” his mother greets excitedly, gesturing for them to come join. 

taeyong swallows, the air around him suddenly much too thick. mr and mrs park are sat on the sofa directly in front of taeyong, his mother beside them. to his right sits mark, patting the open spot on the other sofa next to him, and in the la-z-boy chair in the far corner sits mr seo, a glass of red wine held halfway to his lips. 

their eyes meet and taeyong’s whole body goes hot, his lips trembling as he exhales. mr seo looks— _ god,  _ he looks better than he ever has, with wire framed glasses perched on his nose, dark hair run through with gray at his temples like tinsel, lips red as his wine.

memories spew into taeyong’s mind like a flash flood, raging waters of recollection soaking him before he can even try to build a dam sturdy enough to stop them.

it’s mr seo—it’s  _ johnny— _ smiling as he hands taeyong a margarita, pool water splashing up in waves of azure. it’s the sun, beating down and tanning taeyong’s skin, it’s johnny’s hands on his body and lips parting as he murmurs  _ baby, come here.  _ it’s taeyong’s own need, it’s the way his hands tremble as he lets himself be led, a breath on his lips that sounds way too much like reverence, like  _ daddy.  _

it’s too much. it’s—too fucking  _ much,  _ and taeyong can’t do it. 

“—yong? taeyong?” jaehyun’s voice, beating through the flood waters. “you gonna introduce me, or what?”

taeyong shakes his head, trying to think through the muddiness. “oh—oh yeah, sorry. um, everyone, this is my roommate from college, jaehyun.”

jaehyun is met with polite acknowledgement, greeting everyone back in turn. a heavy hand falls on taeyong’s lower back, jaehyun pushing him gently forward. taeyong slaps himself mentally, hating himself  for floundering, for getting trapped like a hungry, feral animal in a small, steel cage.

taeyong moves before he can fool himself into chancing another glance over at john—mr seo, scrambling over to mark’s side and sitting down next to him. jaehyun follows, sitting to taeyong’s left, a physical barrier between taeyong and taeyong’s forbidden fruit.

“yong!” mark greets him excitedly. “i’ve missed you so much, man.”

taeyong grins, lifted immediately by mark’s unique brand of infectious sunshine. “i missed you too,” taeyong says. 

“so, roommates?” mark asks, drawing jaehyun into their conversation.

taeyong nods. “yeah,” he says, “we’re in the same major, too.”

they chat idly for a little while, and taeyong tries to  focus on the conversation instead of the burning itch in the back of his mind that’s begging him to turn and look at mr seo again. he wants to look him in the eye and  _ force  _ johnny to acknowledge him. he wants to be cornered in the kitchen again, just like the first time, nose to nose with desire almost tangible between them.

he wants to ask johnny if he missed him, if he thinks about him, if he touches himself to memories of slick mouths and flushed skin, like taeyong still does.

“dude, you and jaehyun should totally crash at my house tonight!” mark suggests, eyes bright. “i got this  _ sick  _ new sound editing software for my macbook that you guys gotta check out.”

taeyong flounders, but thankfully jaehyun is there to save him. “dude, yeah,” jaehyun says. he leans closer to mark, speaking low so only mark and taeyong hear him. “yong swiped a bottle of his mom’s tequila, too.”

mark’s face opens in surprise, before he schools his expression into something less suspicious. “hell yeah,” mark says, eyes bright with anticipation.

“don’t sound so excited,” taeyong says, “because it’s the cheap stuff and it’s fucking nasty.”

“tequila is tequila,” jaehyun interjects. taeyong rolls his eyes.

“i’m gonna go get a drink,” he says. “you want anything?”

jaehyun asks for a soda and mark nods towards the glass of water he must’ve gotten from taeyong’s mother when he arrived, sitting on the side table next to the couch. taeyong gets up from his seat and makes his way into the kitchen, over to the fridge to grab his and jaehyun’s drinks.

either taeyong is more preoccupied by searching for two cans of coke than he thought he was, or he’s a lot less aware of his own surroundings that he thought he was, because he doesn’t hear anyone else enter the kitchen until said person clears their throat behind him, and taeyong jumps, nearly bouncing his skull off the fridge door.

“jesus, what the fu—“ taeyong whirls around, ready to be annoyed at who he assumes his mark or jaehyun, but as he turns to face the person, the wind knocks out of his sails, and his words get stuck in his throat.

mr seo stands in the doorway, one hand itching at his neck sheepishly. “sorry,” he says, and  _ god,  _ his voice makes tingles go down taeyong’s spine, deep like mahogany. “i didn’t mean to scare you.”

taeyong runs his tongue over his bottom lip, mouth suddenly gone dry. “it’s—it’s okay.”

mr seo shifts his weight, glancing around the kitchen, awkward in a way taeyong’s never seen him. he flounders, like he’s trying to figure out what to say. taeyong’s hands go clammy.

“johnny, i—“

“how have you been?” 

taeyong stops, mouth still half open, caught on a sentence he hasn’t quite fully formed yet. “um,” he says. “i, uh, good? yeah, good. i’m good.”

a small smile curves johnny’s lips. “good,” he echoes. “and how’s school?”

“it’s good,” taeyong repeats.

johnny nods his head, tucking his hands into his pockets. “i’m glad to hear it,” he says.

taeyong purses his lips, the soda cold in his hands but not cold enough to distract him from the sheer tense awkwardness filling the space between him and johnny. 

taeyong was expecting this, but it doesn’t make things any less painful.

and it  _ is  _ painful, standing with johnny in front of him, so close yet so far out of taeyong’s reach. taeyong’s skin prickles, a ghost of a touch, of warm bath water and a firm chest, reverent kisses and sun-warmed concrete leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“so, jaehyun, he’s your roommate?” johnny asks.

taeyong swallows. “yeah,” he says. “he had uh, some family stuff going on, so i asked if he wanted to stay with me for winter break.”

“ah,” johnny hums, nodding again. “that’s very sweet of you, taeyong.”

taeyong flushes, heat in his cheeks before he can help it. “thanks,” he says. “um, speaking of jaehyun, i should—go bring him his drink.” taeyong raises the can of coke, as if that’ll explain his sudden and awkward ploy for a way out.

johnny’s lips purse, an unreadable expression on his face. “of course,” johnny says, stepping aside from the doorway so taeyong can pass.

their arms brush as taeyong leaves the kitchen, and the featherlight touch feels just as electric as the first time johnny put his hands on taeyong’s skin.

taeyong hears mr seo’s sharp inhale, and it takes every ounce of willpower taeyong has to continue making his way back into the den instead of dropping the drinks where he stands and begging mr seo to kiss him, touch him, fuck him,  _ anything.  _

“sorry,” taeyong squeaks as he all but runs back to the den, ignoring the knowing look on jaehyun’s face as he hands him his soda and sits back down.

the rest of the evening passes relatively uneventfully. taeyong and mr seo make some tense eye contact from across the table a few times during dinner, but other than that, mark’s chatter and the parks’ questions about his experience with university so far keep him occupied well enough.

after dinner, they kill a couple more hours mingling, but then taeyong, jaehyun, and mark skip out back to mark’s house, sure to pit stop up to taeyong’s room to grab the bottle of tequila, stuffing it into what taeyong’s mom thinks is just his overnight bag. 

being back in mark’s house wracks taeyong with so much déjà vu that he feels nauseous, the last time he was here being the day he and mr seo called it quits. while he and mark had hung out at the pool a couple times before taeyong left for college, taeyong always made it a point to have mark stay the night at his house. 

there’s a new couch in the living room, taeyong noticing it as they walk by. his cheeks flame, realizing that mr seo must not have been able to get the stains out of the cushions like he thought he could.

“so, dad’s probably gonna be at your place for another couple hours, and i doubt he’ll come check on us when he gets back,” mark says, flopping onto his bed once they get into his room.

“sweet,” jaehyun says, taking up residence in the giant bean bag chair on the other side of mark’s room, groaning happily as he sinks into its center.

“careful in the foof, dude,” taeyong warns, grabbing the bottle out of his bag and settling on the bed next to mark. “many have climbed inside it, never to be seen again.”

“the foof?” jaehyun asks.

“that’s its name,” mark explains. “taeyong named it that during sophomore year. i’m not really sure where the name came from either.”

“because it’s a  _ foof,”  _ taeyong says.

“yeah, sure, if you say so,” jaehyun shrugs. “ _ any _ ways, where’s the tequila?”

taeyong passes jaehyun the liquor and jaehyun twists the cap off, bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a mouthful. he swallows and grimaces, handing the bottle back to taeyong.

mark pulls up the music editing software he’d mentioned earlier, and they pass the bottle around between them while mark mixes beats, freestyling absentmindedly. taeyong and jaehyun join in every so often, and as the liquor levels in the bottle get lower, the verses get more and more slurred until all they’re saying is nonsense, slurred between giggles.

“ugh, dude, i  _ missed  _ you,” mark whines, flopping back against the pillows, his macbook balancing precariously on his chest. “it’s been so  _ long  _ since we hung out.”

taeyong giggles, taking the bottle as jaehyun passes it back to him. “‘s only been like, a couple months.”

“five! five months, dude,” mark corrects, waving his hands wildly. his macbook topples off his chest, falling onto the bed and snapping shut, the music cutting off mid-bridge. “we like—lived in each other’s back yard  _ forever  _ and now you’re so far away.”

taeyong coos at mark, crawling over the bed and flopping into mark’s lap, loose limbed and nearly smacking mark in the face with the bottle of tequila.

“dude, gimme that before you knock him out, or

somethin’,” jaehyun says, trying to get up out of the foof, only to fall back in, groaning in defeat. “this fucking  _ thing,”  _ he curses.

“told you! the foof is  _ deadly.”  _

“ugh,” jaehyun groans. “i’m—too drunk for this. somebody help me get out.”

taeyong comes to jaehyun’s aid, leaving nearly empty bottle next to mark on the bed as he goes to rescue jaehyun from the foof’s clutches.

“grab my hands,” taeyong says, reaching out to jaehyun, who does as he’s told, wrapping his fingers around taeyong’s wrist.

taeyong heaves back as jaehyun lurches forward, and while it gets jaehyun up and out of the foof, the momentum keeps him going, and next thing taeyong knows, they’re tumbling to the floor, jaehyun landing right on top of him.

“ _ jesus,”  _ taeyong wheezes.

mark snickers from the bed, bottle help halfway to his lips. “smooth moves,” he says, and takes another shot.

“dude, your knee went  _ right  _ into my dick,” jaehyun wheezes, grimacing against the pain.

“sorry,” taeyong apologizes. “at least you’re outta the foof.”

jaehyun rolls his eyes, crawling off of taeyong, one of his hands cradling his crotch. “i gotta piss. where’s your bathroom, mark?”

“use the downstairs one,” mark says. “there’s a hallway at the bottom of the stairs, and it’s the last door on the right.”

it’s also right across from mr seo’s home office, but taeyong doesn’t say that out loud.

jaehyun nods, wobbling on unsteady feet as he ducks out of mark’s room. 

once jaehyun’s out the door and out of earshot, mark nudges taeyong with his foot and says, “so.”

“so?” taeyong parrots, getting up from the floor and climbing back onto mark’s bed.

“you and jaehyun,” mark clarifies. “are you guys like—“ he makes an odd gesture with his hands—“a thing?”

taeyong’s brow furrows for a second before he gets it, the tequila making him a little slow. “are we—oh,  _ no,  _ no, definitely not. jaehyun’s straight and i don’t like him like  _ that.” _

“oh,” mark says, passing taeyong the bottle. “sorry, i just thought—you guys seem close, ‘s all.”

“we’re good friends,” taeyong says, taking a swig from the bottle, grimacing from the burn. “he likes a lot of the same things i like, so we got pretty close pretty quick. but we’re not—we’re not like, fucking, or anything.”

mark wheezes, snatching the tequila back from taeyong. “jesus, okay,” he says, knocking back another mouthful. 

“sorry,” taeyong giggles.

jaehyun stumbles his way back into the room, making taeyong and mark jump. he looks frazzled, his eyes wide, breathing heavy, like he’d run back up the stairs.

“your dad’s home,” jaehyun says, flopping back down into the foof. “he stopped me when i left the bathroom ‘n he asked me if we needed anything.  _ god,  _ i hope he didn’t realize that i’m fuckin’  _ smashed.” _

mark’s face goes a little gray. “shit,” he says. “i didn’t even hear him come in.”

“d’you think he’ll care that we’re drunk?” jaehyun asks.

mark shrugs his shoulders and taeyong, the  _ idiot  _ that he is, says, “nah, he won’t care.”

both mark and jaehyun turn to stare at him, questions in both their expressions. mark’s is more confused while jaehyun’s is frantic, one of them being privy to a dirty secret that the other is not. 

“i, uh, i mean, he would give me beer sometimes? when i would come over to—to swim during summer? he—he made me a margarita once,” taeyong explains, trying to cover his tracks. 

thankfully, blissfully, mark seems to accept taeyong’s explanation with little fanfare. “ah, yeah,” mark mumbles. “‘s long as we’re in the house, i don’t think he’ll be mad.”

taeyong lets out the breath he’d been holding, relief flooding his system. “yeah,” he agrees, grateful that the moment has passed. he meets jaehyun’s gaze and jaehyun raises an eyebrow. taeyong shrugs, looking away before mark can catch on to their wordless exchange. 

“dude, i’m tired,” mark says, flopping back against the pillows. “what time ‘s’it?”

“like, midnight,” jaehyun says offhandedly. “i think ‘m sleepin’ on the foof tonight.”

mark caps the now-empty bottle of tequila and drops it onto the floor with a muffled thud. “y’want the outside?” he asks, and it takes taeyong a second to realize that mark’s speaking to him.

“what? oh, yeah, thanks,” he says. mark scoots over towards the wall, leaving the other side of the bed open for taeyong. he pats the mattress, but taeyong shakes his head. “gotta pee,” he explains.

mark just mumbles something intelligible, and when taeyong looks over to jaehyun, he’s already knocked out on the foof, mouth open, drooling a bit. taeyong slides off the bed, knees a little shaky as he pads across the floor and out of mark’s room.

he heads down the hallway to the stairs, socked feet making nary a sound as he pads down to the bathroom. the door is ajar like it always is, and taeyong finds the light switch easily, flicking it on and closing the door behind him.

he empties his bladder, flushing the toilet and grabbing the handle of the faucet to turn the water on. he stares at himself in the mirror, seeing for the first time what a  _ mess  _ he looks like.

there’s a red flush to his face, high on his cheekbones, and his lips are raw from where he’d been biting them, picking at the dead skin. his pupils are blown wide despite the bright light of the bathroom, and his hair is stuck up in random directions.

frankly, he looks like he just got fucked, and the thought makes heat curl low in his belly, his mind drifting into dangerous territory.

one of the first nights taeyong had spent in this house, alone with mr seo, they had showered together in this bathroom, washing the chlorine from the pool off their bodies. mr seo—johnny, god,  _ johnny— _ had run shampoo-covered hands through taeyong’s hair and kissed him until he was breathless.

taeyong’s toes curl as he remembers it, hot water slouching over them both as johnny worked taeyong open and then took him against the shower wall, taeyong’s sounds of pleasure and desperation reverberating around them, so loud in his memory that taeyong can almost hear them now.

heat courses through taeyong’s body. his fingers curl into fists against the sink, and it only takes him a second to decide that he’s about to make a bad,  _ bad  _ decision, and another second to decide that he doesn’t care.

taeyong shuts the faucet off and dries his hands on the towel, skin still a little damp as he leaves the bathroom and turns off the light.

across the hall sits johnny’s home office. the door is closed, but taeyong can see the light peeking out from under it, a beacon in the otherwise dark hallway.

taeyong pads over to the door, wobbling a little. he steadies himself against the doorframe, and on his next breath, he grips the handle and pushes the door open.

johnny sits at his desk, glasses low on his nose, pencil in hand as he writes notes in the margin of a blueprint. he doesn’t notice taeyong at first so taeyong just watches him, heart thudding in his chest.

johnny startles slightly when he fnally spots taeyong in the doorway, pressing a hand to his chest as he exhales shakily. “jesus, taeyong,” johnny breathes, setting his pencil down. “you scared me.”

“payback,” taeyong murmurs and johnny chuckles. 

“ah,” johnny hums, pulling his glasses from his face and hooking them into the collar of his shirt. he’s still wearing the same button down he had on at taeyong’s house, only he’s loosened the top few buttons. the peek of his strong chest makes taeyong’s mouth water. “d’you need something, taeyong?”

taeyong shrugs, stepping into the office and closing the door behind him. “not particularly,” he says, walking slowly over to johnny, running his fingers over the bookshelves that line the office walls, over johnny’s desk when he gets close enough.

johnny watches him warily, lips pressed into a thin line. “taeyong—“

“do you think about me?” taeyong asks, liquor making him bold. 

johnny sighs. “we shouldn’t be having this conversation,” he says.

“why not?” taeyong asks. he meets johnny’s eyes. “we’re not doing anything wrong. ‘s just a question.”

another sigh, and johnny rubs a hand through his hair. “a question, but a loaded one,” he says.

taeyong huffs. “why are you being so—so— _ cold?”  _ he asks, frustration leaking into his voice.

“taeyong,” johnny says, and  _ god,  _ taeyong hates the tone of his voice. he sounds like he’s speaking to a child, trying to placate a tantrum before it happens. it makes taeyong feel small, and then it makes him feel  _ angry. _

“don’t talk to me like that,” he spits, and watches with satisfaction as surprise colors johnny’s expression. “don’t talk to me like i’m a  _ kid.” _

johnny leans back in his chair, scrubbing a hand over his face. he looks tired. “i’m not,” he says. “i know you’re not a kid, taeyong.”

taeyong purses his lips. “good,” he says. he lets his fingers walk across johnny’s desk as he gets closer, close enough that he can feel the heat of johnny’s body, can hear the barely-audible hitch of johnny’s breath when taeyong throws a leg over his lap, straddling him. taeyong sits, right on johnny’s thighs, moaning at the feel of johnny under him, strong and sure.

“what are you doing?” johnny hisses, his irritation tampered by the way his hands come up to grab taeyong’s waist, pulling him closer like a reflex.

“remember the last time we were in here together?” taeyong breathes, flexing his thighs, rutting down against johnny’s lap. johnny grunts, hands squeezing taeyong’s hips like he wants to stop him, but he doesn’t. “‘cause i do. i remember—sitting on your cock while you worked, while you  _ ignored  _ me. ‘n then when you were done, you fucked me  _ so  _ good. you remember, don’t you, daddy?” 

“taeyong, you reek like tequila,” johnny says. “you’re drunk.”

“so?” taeyong asks, eyes narrowing. “that never stopped you before.”

johnny’s expression clouds, and he rolls his chair back, using the grip he has on taeyong’s hips to push taeyong off his lap, so forcefully that taeyong stumbles and nearly falls.

“what the fuck?” taeyong grumbles, trying to crawl back into johnny’s lap but johnny gets to his feet, placing a hand on taeyong’s chest.

they stand nose to nose, taeyong staring defiantly up at johnny. “don’t push me away,” taeyong says. “i know you wanna fuck me. ‘m so tight, daddy, i saved myself for you. don’t you wanna feel me?”

johnny sucks a sharp breath in through his nose, eyes narrowing. “go to bed, taeyong,” johnny says, his voice even but dangerously low.

taeyong squares his jaw. “fine,” he says. irritation makes his skin crawl, and rejection makes him angry. “if you don’t want to, i’ll just let jaehyun fuck me instead.”

johnny’s nostrils flare, and he looks like he’s about to say something else, but taeyong doesn’t give him the chance. he slaps johnny’s hand away from his chest, stumbling a little as he turns himself away, but he doesn’t look back as he all but stomps out of johnny’s office.

mark and jaehyun are both passed out when taeyong gets back to mark’s room, and mark barely stirs when taeyong crawls into bed.

he plays it over and over in his head, the conversation—argument?  _ god,  _ what even  _ was  _ that?—in johnny’s office. his heart pounds and his hands shake, and he tries desperately to fight the rejection-fueled stinging in his eyes.

taeyong squeezes his eyes shut and buries his face into the pillow. blissfully, the tequila made him more tired than he’d realized, and he’s asleep within minutes, the last thought on his mind being what johnny was going to say before taeyong walked out.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

taeyong wakes up with a pounding headache, mark’s knee shoved into his back, and the acrid taste of regret in his mouth. 

groaning, he pats around the bed for his phone, finding it teetering precariously on the edge of the mattress, half tangled in the sheet that’s been pulled off the corner.

checking the time tells him it’s just past eight am,  _ way  _ too fucking early for taeyong’s eyes to be open. his battery percentage is on three percent, and he yanks mark’s phone off the charger to plug his own in.

jaehyun’s snoring in the foof and mark somehow managed to flip to the other side of the bed in his sleep, his feet now up near taeyong’s face. taeyong grimaces, smushing his face into the pillow.

he sleeps for a few more hours, waking up next time to mark prodding him in the cheek.

“dude, wake up,” mark says, voice rough with sleep. taeyong grumbles, so mark pokes him again.

“‘m ‘wake,” taeyong mumbles, swatting mark’s hand away.

“hurry up,” mark urges. “dad made pancakes.”

taeyong’s heart falls into his stomach, and then his stomach falls straight into his ass. flashes from last night flickering through his mind like a horribly ruinous slide show, and he buries his face in the pillow again.

“yong, come  _ on,”  _ mark groans. “dad had to leave to go to a job site so if you don’t get up and eat now, the pancakes are gonna get  _ cold.” _

taeyong perks back up, relief feeling like cold water feels to a parched throat. “he left?” taeyong asks.

“dude, do you listen to me at all?” mark huffs. “yeah, he cooked before he left, and he woke me up to tell me. so get your lazy ass up and let’s go eat.”

jaehyun’s already in the kitchen when mark and taeyong stroll in, pouring syrup over the stack of pancakes on his plate. he grunts at them in acknowledgement, an expression on his face that taeyong’s come to know very well after many mornings shared together in the wake of a frat party, after too much jungle juice and the sick realization that it’s  _ thursday  _ and they both have nine ams.

the rolling of taeyong’s stomach feels better after he eats and chugs a few glasses of orange juice. his mom texts him as he’s clearing his second plate of pancakes, asking when he and jaehyun will be coming back.

he texts her back to say that they’re eating breakfast at mark’s and will be back soon, and that seems to placate her well enough. taeyong helps mark rinse the dishes and stack them into the dishwasher, he and jaehyun heading out soon after.

“dude,” jaehyun says as he flops onto taeyong’s bed, “i’m never drinking shitty tequila again. i think i left part of my soul in the foof.”

taeyong snorts, falling into bed next to jaehyun. he stares at the ceiling as his stomach turns, and he feels queasy all over again.

“i think i fucked up last night,” taeyong says quietly.

“dude, me too,” jaehyun says, not quite catching on. “feels like i got my ass kicked by  _ el destilador.”  _

taeyong sighs, rubbing the heels of his hands over his eyes, like somehow that’ll make him forget what an  _ idiot  _ he is. “not just that, jae. like—d’you know that mark’s bathroom is right across from his dad’s home office?”

“why would i— _ oh,”  _ jaehyun says, voice dropping low when he finally gets it. “yong, you didn’t.”

taeyong groans, pushing his hands into his eyes until he sees stars. “i’m so  _ stupid,”  _ he says. “i fucking—i just  _ threw  _ myself at him, and he—he flat out rejected me, jae.”

jaehyun sighs. “that’s like, probably a good thing,” he says.

taeyong takes a deep breath, dropping his hands from his eyes. his vision is still a little spotty when he turns his head to look at jaehyun. “can i tell you a secret?”

jaehyun gives him a small smile, crooked and dimpled. “you know i’m good for it,” he says.

taeyong’s gaze flicks back to the ceiling, blood rushing to his cheeks. “i don’t think i’m ever gonna get over him,” he says, sullen.

“yong,” jaehyun says softly. “you just gotta give it time.”

taeyong gives a small, frustrated sigh. “it’s been  _ four months,  _ jae. i thought i’d be fine, and look what happened. i feel—i’m so  _ stupid.  _ like, we didn’t even date, we just fucked around for a week and here i am, making a fool of myself for him all over again.”

“in your defense,” jaehyun says, “from what you told me, it was more than just a week of fucking.”

“i guess,” taeyong says, mulling it over. “but it’s never gonna be more than what it was, y’know? that’s what’s so shitty about how bad i still want him.”

jaehyun’s fingers dip between taeyong’s, and he gives a reassuring squeeze. “well, you know what you gotta do then, right?”

there’s a lilt to jaehyun’s voice, so taeyong humors him. “what’s that?”

jaehyun grins at him. “we’re gonna go back to the original plan of avoiding mr seo like that plague, and then when we get back to school, we’re gonna find you a nice  _ new  _ dad to fuck.”

a noise of disgust bursts from between taeyong’s lips before he can stop it, and jaehyun cackles, tossing his head back against the pillows. 

“i’ll pass,” taeyong says.

“fine, fine,” jaehyun acquiesces, “we don’t have to find you another dad to fuck, we’ll just avoid the one you already did.”

“yeah,” taeyong sighs. “i don’t think that’ll be an issue, not with what i said to him last night.”

jaehyun raises an eyebrow. “oh?” he asks.

taeyong feels his cheeks go hot, and he refuses to meet jaehyun’s eye as he says, sheepishly, “i kinda told johnny that if he didn’t wanna fuck me, i was just gonna go fuck you.”

jaehyun lets out a choked sound, somewhere between scandal and disbelief. “oh my  _ god,  _ yong, he’s gonna come for my neck.”

taeyong lets out a laugh—an ugly, snorty kind of sound. “he won’t,” taeyong says. “he made it pretty clear that he doesn’t want me, so he doesn’t get to be mad about me hooking up with someone else.”

“you better be right,” jaehyun says, “‘cause i’m not trying to get my ass beat when we’re not even actually fucking.”

taeyong rolls onto his side, resting his head on jaehyun’s chest. “johnny wouldn’t do that,” he says. 

jaehyun’s fingers curl into taeyong’s hair, scratching gently at his scalp. taeyong hums, letting his eyes fall closed. 

they end up napping for the majority of the day, waking only when taeyong’s mom calls them down for dinner.

the rest of the week passes in a similar fashion; they laze around in taeyong’s room, making sure to invite mark over to taeyong’s place instead of the other way around. mark doesn’t seem to mind, happy to come and chill, killing days playing call of duty and recording songs. 

that’s what they’re doing today—mark and jaehyun are currently mowing down a hoard of zombies while taeyong absentmindedly mixes a beat on his macbook, humming and mumbling along absentmindedly.

mark’s phone suddenly rings, startling him. he fumbles to pick it up and subsequently drops his controller. his character on screen stops shooting, and jaehyun screeches as both of their avatars are mauled to death by the zombies.

“dude, what the hell?” jaehyun exclaims, mark mouthing  _ sorry  _ as he picks up the call.

“dad, hey,” mark says, and taeyong taps the spacebar to pause his beat. “yeah, we’re here. huh? oh, okay, yeah i can grab some. okay—yeah, no problem, see you in a bit. bye.”

mark hangs up the call, and before taeyong can ask what it was about, mark says, “so dad went shopping for the party tomorrow and apparently forgot everything he needed for the eggnog, minus the bourbon. you guys wanna come with on a grocery run?”

“uh, yeah, sure,” taeyong says. “you driving?”

“yeah,” mark says, getting up from the floor. “i just gotta run home and grab my keys. i’ll come scoop you guys.”

with that, mark ducks out of taeyong’s room. jaehyun turns to taeyong almost immediately once mark’s out if earshot. “a party?”

“yeah,” taeyong says, chewing on his bottom lip. “johnny throws a christmas eve eve party every year.”

“dude, christmas eve eve is tomorrow,” jaehyun points out. 

“i know,” taeyong sighs. “i was gonna try to dip by faking sick, or something.”

jaehyun rolls his eyes. “yong, i’ve known your mom for all of like, five days, and even i know there’s  _ no  _ way she’d let you dip out of a neighborhood christmas party, even if you were deathly ill.”

“ugh, i  _ know,”  _ taeyong repeats. “just—don’t let me drink too much eggnog, okay?”

“no promises,” jaehyun snickers.

a horn honking outside grabs their attention, both of them getting up and scrambling downstairs to throw their shoes and coats on. mark is waiting for them in the driveway; taeyong surrenders shotgun to jaehyun after jaehyun calls it, climbing into the back seat.

the grocery trip is quick, and they pitstop at mcdonald’s on the way back to pick up a family box. mark drops taeyong and jaehyun back at taeyong’s house, coming back once he’s taken the groceries back to mr seo.

taeyong and jaehyun boot up black ops again and dive into the box, divvying up the food while they wait for mark to get back.

mark pops in a couple minutes later, greeted by jaehyun chucking a cheeseburger at him. mark catches it one handed, exalting in victory as he plops down onto taeyong’s bed.

“my dad is fucking  _ scrambling,”  _ he says, unwrapping the burger and taking a bite. “he’s like—trying to cook a million things and clean the house and i’m just like dude, chill.”

“he does that every year though,” taeyong comments, lining up a headshot on the zombie that’s advancing towards him and pulling the trigger. 

“yeah, and i don’t know  _ why,”  _ mark says, words muffled as he chews. “‘s’not like anyone new is coming this year. like, who’s gonna give a fuck if he doesn’t have four different kinds of stuffed olives?”

jaehyun snorts, knifing the zombie in front of him. “do i not count as someone new?”

mark rolls his eyes. “do  _ you  _ care how many kinds of stuffed olives there are?”

“nah,” jaehyun shrugs.

“my point exactly,” says mark, shoving the remaining bit of his burger into his mouth. “yong, gimme some fries.”

taeyong feels around blindly for mark’s requested fries, handing them over. mark makes a happy noise, and comes to join them on the floor. “dibs on the controller from whoever dies first,” he says.

turns out it’s taeyong who dies first, taken out by a hoard of zombies that he had no chance against. he passes the controller to mark, grabbing some fries for himself and settling down on his bed.

they play for a few more hours, running through the different maps, swapping out when one of them dies. mark’s phone buzzes with a text around eight, and he bids them goodbye, explaining that mr seo’s finally beckoned him back home for help. “see you guys tomorrow,” he says, taeyong and jaehyun both calling out their goodbyes as he leaves.

taeyong and jaehyun end up finally getting to sleep around two am, after successfully clearing blood of the dead. they crawl into taeyong’s bed, exhausted, and they both fall asleep in only minutes.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

if there’s one thing taeyong’s mother can’t stand, it’s being late to social events, so when she storms into taeyong’s room and wakes taeyong and jaehyun like she has a personal vendetta against them, taeyong’s really not surprised.

“it’s  _ one in the afternoon,  _ taeyong,” she scolds, pulling the blankets off of them. “mr seo said to come over at four, so you better get up and make yourself decent. you too, jaehyun.”

jaehyun mutters a sheepish acknowledgement, not used to his mother’s wrath the way that taeyong is. taeyong promises her that they’re getting up; that seems to quell her for the time being, and she traipses out of his room with one final warning: “four o’clock, taeyong.”

“god, your mom is scary,” jaehyun says, shuddering for dramatic effect.

“she doesn’t like to be late to things,” taeyong explains, rubbing the grogginess from his eyes. 

taeyong lets jaehyun use the shower first, hopping in after he’s done, washing his hair and letting the conditioner sit while he scrubs himself down, rinsing his hair and getting out when he’s done.

he wipes his hand over the sink mirror so he can see himself, and grabs another towel to dry his dripping hair. he looks a little tired, dark circles under his eyes, and wonders if it’d be too much to put some makeup on just to go to the seos’. 

he throws on his sweatpants and makes his way back to his room, where he finds jaehyun puzzling over something laid out on taeyong’s bed.

“what’re you looking at?” taeyong asks, wandering over to his dresser to grab some jeans.

“two of the most heinous ugly christmas sweaters that i’ve  _ ever  _ seen,” jaehyun laments. “why didn’t you tell me this was an ugly sweater party?”

taeyong snickers. “it’s tradition,” taeyong explains. “i pick out mom and dad’s sweaters, and they pick mine. mom was excited to get to pick one for you this year, too.”

jaehyun just stares at the sweaters in silence.

“i’ll let you pick which one you want?” taeyong offers, like an olive branch.

by the time they’re done getting ready and jaehyun’s accepted his fate, it’s 3:54 and taeyong’s mom is nearly chomping at the bit when they finally make their way down the stairs. 

her mood brightens immediately when she sees them in their sweaters, cooing at them as she looks them over. “so cute,” she gushes.

taeyong looks down at himself, at the elf that’s stuck to the front of his sweater, the stitched suspenders that make it look like the elf is sitting in a baby carrier, and then to jaehyun, who’s trying his best to look happy in his own horrendous christmas-themed taco cat sweater. 

“thanks, mom,” taeyong says. “you picked good ones this year.”

his mom beams. “you too. though your father had to look up the meme because we didn’t get it.” she pronounces  _ meme  _ like  _ me-me. _

speaking of taeyong’s father, he traipses into the living room like he’d been called, carrying a tray full of different cubed cheeses and crackers. “are we ready?” he asks, looking over to taeyong and jaehyun.

taeyong nods and grabs for his shoes, slipping them on. jaehyun does the same as well, and once everyone is situated, taeyong’s father leads them out the door.

the walk over to mr seo’s house is quick—they’re neighbors, after all—so taeyong doesn’t have much time to hype himself up before they’re walking up to the porch, his mother knocking on the door.

thankfully it’s mark and not mr seo that meets them at the door. he grins as he greets them, taking the cheese tray from taeyong’s father and ushering them inside.

there’s a few people scattered about the house already, and his mother beelines over to mrs park once she spots her in the foyer, his father following. it leaves taeyong, jaehyun, and mark standing together, with mark leading them into the kitchen where all the hors d'oeuvres have been placed.

“your mom did you dirty with the sweater this year,” mark says as he sets the cheese tray down next to a platter of stuffed green olives.

“she did,” taeyong agrees. he nods to mark’s own sweater. “yours is pretty good.”

mark grins, grabbing the hem of the sweater and holding it out, looking down at the design. it’s a deer sporting a pair of sunglasses, christmas lights slung through its antlers, with the words “let it glow” on the bottom. the sleeves are done in a classic ugly sweater pattern, red, green, and black.

“it’s funny,” mark says, “dad picked an elf sweater, too. you guys should take a picture together.”

taeyong hums noncommittally. “yeah, sure,” he says. “where, um, where is your dad anyways?”

“in the living room,” mark says. “the hongs got here like, super early, and he got roped into some weird conversation about model airplanes by mr hong.”

“oh god,” taeyong says. mr hong is quite eccentric—he’s a newly retired astrophysicist who used to spend time making collages out of old magazines, and apparently he’s now moved on to model airplanes. 

“dad poured up a huge mug of eggnog before we went in there, so hopefully he’s not suffering too much,” mark snickers.

“speaking of,” jaehyun pipes up, “where  _ is  _ the eggnog?”

a sly grin lifts mark’s lips. “the virgin stuff is over there—“ he points to a crystal punch bowl, filled high, a ladle resting on the edge—“but the  _ real  _ stuff is in the fridge so it stays chilled.”

“nice,” jaehyun says, grabbing a cup from next to the punch bowl, traipsing to the fridge and tugging the door open. he fills his cup and hands it off to taeyong, grabbing another to fill for mark, and then for himself.

mark leads them into the den, where a fire is burning in the fireplace, a small christmas tree lit up in the corner by the loveseat. taeyong can hear the chatter coming from the living room as more and more of the neighbors arrive, and he assumes it’s only a matter of time before the party spills into the den too, and taeyong has to face mr seo again.

he takes a nice long sip of his eggnog, settling into the cozy la-z-boy chair next to the fireplace. jaehyun and mark take up in the loveseat, mark tucking his feet under himself. he’s got ugly christmas socks on, too.

the den is warm and cozy with the fire burning. it smells like cinnamon, likely due to the candles burning on the mantle. taeyong takes another sip of his eggnog.

they get only about twenty minutes or so alone in the den before more people join them. taeyong’s mother is among them, and she urges them out into the living room, so taeyong can mingle and introduce jaehyun to the neighbors that taeyong hasn’t yet seen since he’s been home. 

the living room is well filled, and taeyong waves to mr and mrs park when he sees them. he’s almost pulled into a side conversation by mr hong but then rescued by mark, who tugs him and jaehyun into the kitchen.

“dad, look,” mark says and taeyong feels the color drain from his cheeks. “check out taeyong’s sweater.”

mr seo turns his head, looking up from where he’s fixing a stack of cocktail napkins. his expression pinches for a minute second before he smooths it into something more appropriate, a small smile that taeyong sees through like it’s crystal. 

“an elf,” mr seo says. “a good choice.”

he gestures to his own sweater, and taeyong’s cheeks heat when he reads what it says. it’s much more scandalous that what taeyong thought mr seo would pick to wear—the elf on his sweater is stuck heinously close to his crotch, and the sweater reads  _ when i think about you i touch my elf.  _

the elf on mr seo’s sweater looks like it’s dangling in hell or limbo, and taeyong feels the same. he drinks more of his eggnog, scrambling for something to say.

“oh, it’s like that song by the divinyls,” jaehyun says, saving taeyong just in time.

“you know it?” mr seo asks, and if taeyong’s not mistaken, his expression pinches up again, just a hair, when he addresses jaehyun.

“yeah,” jaehyun says. “my mom loves her nineties music, so she listens to them a lot.”

“ah,” mr seo hums. he looks back to mark. “did you boys get some food yet?”

taeyong doesn’t think mark or jaehyun notice, but it’s quite clear to taeyong that he’s being strategically ignored, and his skin prickles with annoyance. he barely hears what mark and mr seo are talking about, too focused on the way his palms get clammy; he tastes rust, and realizes he’s worried his bottom lip between his teeth enough that it’s started to bleed.

taeyong bring his cup to his lips and downs the rest of what’s inside.

“dude, slow your roll,” jaehyun murmurs, nudging taeyong with his elbow, a reminder.

“well, take what you want, there’s plenty of food,” mr seo says, gesturing to the hors d'oeuvres table. there’s a knock at the door, and mr seo leaves them to go answer it, walking past taeyong to get out of the kitchen.

taeyong holds his breath as he passes, an unpleasant feeling settling in his stomach as mr seo purposely seems to make himself smaller so he doesn’t brush against taeyong as he goes by. 

“let’s grab some food,” jaehyun says, putting a hand on taeyong’s back and nudging him towards the table. 

taeyong fills up a plate and refills his cup. jaehyun glares at him and makes him promise to drink slower this time, and taeyong nods, swearing he will.

turns out taeyong is a  _ liar. _

he tries to pace himself, he  _ does,  _ but every time he and mr seo meet eyes from across the room and taeyong watches, sullen, as mr seo tears his gaze away and stares adamantly at something or someone else, the pit in his stomach gets heavier and heavier and his mouth grows dry, and he drinks to try to soothe it. 

luckily for him, the adults all seem to be onto the same train of thought he is, and as he gets more buzzed,

so do they, so they don’t notice that taeyong’s getting drunker as the night grows older, when taeyong was supposed to have been drinking the non-alcoholic eggnog.

jaehyun and mark are in a similar state to taeyong—jaehyun having given up on policing taeyong and choosing instead to watch the drama unfold, like a bad soap opera, and mark because he’s a lightweight. even mr seo’s cheeks have gotten redder, his words a little more slurred than they were a couple hours ago.

“johnny, dear, where did you get this sofa?” mrs park asks. “it’s lovely.”

“uh,” mr seo hesitates, and taeyong’s drawn to the conversation. the sofa mrs park sits on just so happens to be the one mr seo had bought to replace the one he’d fucked taeyong on last summer, the one irrevocably stained with their come. “i ordered it from wayfair,” he says.

“cute,” mrs park coos.

taeyong gets the sudden feeling that he’s being watched, and when he flicks his gaze from the sofa back to mr seo, he finds that he’s right.

mr seo is staring, quite blatantly, lips pressed into a thin line. taeyong’s eyes very deliberately move to the sofa and then back to mr seo, and he raises an eyebrow.

jaehyun mutters something that taeyong can’t quite make out, so he turns his head and leans in closer to hear. turns out jaehyun was commenting on mr and mrs hong, the latter of which seems to be trying to fold a used cocktail napkin into an origami crane as his wife watches, a small, happy smile on her red lips.

it’s actually kind of endearing, taeyong thinks. he giggles and lets his head drop onto jaehyun’s shoulder, watching the hongs for just a bit longer until that nagging feeling that he’s being stared at returns.

taeyong doesn’t bother to lift his head, just sweeps his gaze over the room until, once more, he’s looking right and mr seo and finds mr seo looking at him, too.

and, to put it frankly, mr seo looks like someone just spit in his eggnog. 

if taeyong didn’t know better, he’d say that mr seo looks  _ jealous.  _

his eyes are dark and his lips are pressed into a thin line, knuckles white where he grips his mug. his other hand curls into a fist against his thigh, and taeyong is suddenly reminded of the first time he and johnny had sex, when mr seo had him pressed up against the counter and he’d asked  _ do you know what it’s like? to wake up one morning and realize that you want to fuck the eighteen year old neighbor boy?  _

the intensity in mr seo’s eyes now is the same is it was then and, foolish as he is, taeyong decides to  _ push. _

with his head still on jaehyun’s shoulder, taeyong turns to press his face into the side of jaehyun’s neck, and his hand slides to rest high on jaehyun’s thighs. 

“yong,” jaehyun murmurs, low so only taeyong hears him, “what’re you doing?”

“just roll with it,” taeyong breathes. “johnny’s looking.”

jaehyun gives a long suffering sigh. “you’re playing with fire,” he says. “don’t come and whine to me if you get burned.”

taeyong huffs, rolling his eyes. “i know what i’m doing,” he says. 

“sure, yong,” jaehyun says, skepticism clear in his tone. either way he does as taeyong asked and rolls with it, his own hand coming to rest over taeyong’s own, and he gives it a squeeze. 

taeyong looks back to mr seo and finds that he’s since pulled his gaze away, but the hard set of his jaw tells taeyong everything he needs to know. 

“‘m gonna run to the bathroom,” taeyong says, getting up from the sofa. 

he walks out of the living room, sure to walk right past mr seo as he leaves. he swears mr seo’s eyes burn him as he walks by.

taeyong meanders a bit, dragging his feet as he walks. most of the other neighbors have left already, just taeyong’s parents and the parks left, so every other room in the house is currently empty.

the door to the downstairs bathroom is wide open, and taeyong considers it for a moment before he decides he’d rather use the one upstairs. it’s smaller and the toilet is pinched awkwardly close to the sink, but  _ something  _ in taeyong tells him to go to that one instead.

he turns on his heel and heads up the stairs, socked feet thumping quietly against the hardwood. he finds the bathroom easily enough, ducking inside and locking the door behind him.

he does his business, stopping to wash his hands when he’s done. he stares at his own reflection as he dries his hands, scanning the planes of his own face. his cheeks are flushed red and his lips are a little raw where he’s been biting at them, though his dark circles have gotten a tad bit lighter. he pats down a bit of his hair that’s sticking up before he folds the hand towel and puts it back on the rack.

taeyong gives himself one final once over, smoothing down his obnoxious sweater, before he unlocks the door and steps out of the bathroom.

and subsequently walks  _ right  _ into mr seo. 

“oh!” he squeaks, stumbling backwards. “john—mr seo, i’m sorry.”

“it’s fine,” mr seo murmurs.

“sorry,” taeyong says again, and tries to go around mr seo, who doesn’t move an inch.

“taeyong,” mr seo says lowly, reaching out and wrapping a hand around taeyong’s upper arm. “what do you think you’re doing?”

taeyong frowns. his skin burns where mr seo touches him. “going back to the party?” he says, feigning disinterest.

“you know that’s not what i’m asking,” mr seo says, eyes narrowing.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” taeyong says, sticking his chin out.

something flashes in mr seo’s eyes and taeyong sees his other hand curl into a fist, like he’s fighting the urge to grab taeyong’s chin and pop him on the mouth for being so defiant. 

“stop  _ lying,”  _ mr seo hisses, using the grip he has on taeyong’s arm to draw him closer, close enough that they’re nearly nose to nose. taeyong’s struck with an overwhelming sense of déjà vu, and he sways a bit where he stands. “i can see right through you.”

“oh yeah?” taeyong gripes. “then tell me, johnny, what am i trying to do?”

johnny flinches, clearly not expecting taeyong to call him by his name, nor use it in such a biting fashion.

“why are you being like this?” johnny snaps. “i thought we had an  _ understanding—“ _

“i understand!” taeyong cuts him off, jerking his arm to get it out of johnny’s grip. “i understand that you don’t want me _ ,  _ and you made that  _ very  _ clear, so i’m trying to fucking—move  _ on,  _ okay?”

“with jaehyun?” johnny squeezes harder, refusing to let taeyong go. “with a guy you met, what, four months ago?”

“why do you  _ care?”  _ taeyong asks, voice growing thin with exasperation. “you rejected me!”

“because you were  _ drunk!”  _ johnny spits. “we hadn’t seen each other since you left for school, and the first night you’re back, you get shitfaced and try to get me to fuck you? we hadn’t even had a proper conversation, taeyong.”

“so what? if we had talked, you would’ve fucked me?” taeyong questions, irritation making his voice high, reedy. “that’s bullshit, johnny, and you know it.”

“for fuck’s sake, i was trying to be  _ good,”  _ johnny finally lets go of taeyong, stepping back just a fraction and scrubbing a hand over his face. “i was trying to be good, and leave you be like i said i was going to. being with you turned my whole goddamn world upside down, taeyong, and i still haven’t fucking—figured it all out yet.”

almost instantly, the wind whooshes out of taeyong’s sails, his anger once on the edge of boiling reducing to barely a simmer.

“johnny,” taeyong says, inching forward to close the distance between them, staying silent until johnny looks him in the eye. “if i ask you a question, will you tell me the truth?”

johnny’s eyebrows pull together, noticing the sudden change in taeyong’s demeanor. “of course,” johnny says, honest.

“do you still want me?” taeyong asks, a little breathy, a little scared of johnny’s answer.

johnny doesn’t answer right away; waiting makes taeyong’s palms go clammy. 

what he doesn’t expect is for johnny’s own hands to suddenly be on him, palms warm as he cups taeyong’s cheeks. johnny leans in, bending down until their foreheads touch, and when he speaks, taeyong can feel the warmth of johnny’s breath on his lips.

“i do,” johnny murmurs. “ _ god,  _ taeyong, i do.”

“kiss me,” taeyong begs, heat searing his veins,  _ months  _ of repression flooding back all at once. “please, please kiss me.”

“taeyong, we  _ can’t,”  _ johnny breathes and taeyong whimpers, his own hands curling into the front of johnny’s sweater. 

“please,” taeyong begs again, pressing himself closer until he’s nearly plastered against johnny’s front. their lips brush, but johnny still won’t give him the real contact that he wants, that he  _ craves.  _ he hates to feel like he’s trapping johnny, but he can feel the tension he’s holding, and he knows all johnny needs is a nudge. taeyong closes his eyes, pushes up against johnny’s chest, and murmurs,  _ “daddy.” _

taeyong feels the sharp breath johnny sucks in more so than he hears it, and in another breath, taeyong’s being  _ kissed.  _

it’s one of those kisses that taeyong thought only happened in shitty romcoms in the middle of a torrential downpour but here he is, standing in the middle of an open hallway, with johnny kissing him like he’s trying to devour him and  _ god,  _ it’s everything that taeyong wanted.

taeyong gasps against johnny’s lips and johnny uses that as an excuse to slip his tongue into taeyong’s mouth. taeyong moans, trying to hitch himself closer to johnny, trying to get  _ more. _

johnny’s hands leave taeyong’s face to trail down his body, over his chest, down his sides, his lower back, his ass. taeyong moans when johnny squeezes.

johnny begins to move backwards and taeyong stumbles with him, breaking from the kiss to mouth wetly at johnny’s neck. johnny groans and fumbles with the handle of the first door he finds, and they nearly fall in when the door opens.

taeyong closes the door behind them and, for good measure, flicks the lock. it takes him a second to realize they’ve stumbled into mark’s room, and he’s about to be worried that johnny’s own realization will make him want to stop, but his fears are quelled when johnny picks him up like he’s weightless, and tosses him onto mark’s bed.

“we don’t have much time, baby,” johnny breathes, already working to pop the button on taeyong’s jeans. 

taeyong’s heart thuds against his sternum, tingles in his belly from hearing johnny finally call him  _ baby  _ again.

taeyong helps johnny strip his jeans down his legs, a needy sound escaping him as johnny palms at his thighs, fingers dimpling his skin.

“i’ve missed this,” johnny murmurs, ducking down to let his lips drag over taeyong’s inner thighs. 

“did you think about me?” taeyong asks, voice hitching when johnny begins to suck a mark into his skin. 

“fuck, i thought about you so much,” johnny admits, nosing his way up to taeyong’s hips, lifting his sweater so he can dip his tongue into taeyong’s navel. “practically every night, baby.”

“you touched yourself?” taeyong gasps as johnny bites the soft skin of his belly.

johnny lifts his head, raising an eyebrow. “would it make you happy to know that i did? that i jerked off every night like i was a teenager again, thinking about how sweet you looked when i fucked you?”

taeyong groans, gripping johnny’s sweater to haul him into another kiss, whimpering when he feels how hard johnny is, cock pressed against taeyong’s hip.

johnny pulls back just long enough to help taeyong strip out of his sweater and taeyong falls back against the pillows, nearly completely naked while johnny still hasn’t removed a single piece of clothing.

hands span taeyong’s chest, dragging over his ribs, and johnny leans down to suck one of taeyong’s nipples into his mouth. 

taeyong’s poor cock is already drooling all over the inside of his briefs, johnny’s weight keeping him pinned to the bed, unable to chase the friction he’s so desperate for. “please,” taeyong whimpers. “please, daddy, i need you.”

_ “god,  _ that’s—“ johnny groans, slipping a hand between their bodies to palm taeyong’s cock—“tell daddy what you want, baby.”

“your cock,” taeyong says bluntly, no time to beat around the bush. “i want it in me, please.”

“you want me to fuck you, right here?” johnny asks. “on mark’s bed?”

taeyong pouts, rolling his hips up into johnny’s grip. “he doesn’t have to know,” he says.

johnny’s eyes go dark. “no he doesn’t, does he?”

as johnny pulls away, the sudden lack of body heat makes taeyong’s nipples pebble up. he whines at the lost contact, but johnny shushes him. he grabs taeyong’s hips and yanks him down the mattress, until taeyong’s flat on his back, johnny standing at the edge of the mattress with taeyong’s legs around his hips.

johnny hooks his fingers in the waistband of taeyong’s briefs and tugs them down, taeyong lifting his hips to help. it make his cheeks burn, being completely exposed while johnny’s still fully dressed; the inherent power imbalance makes him tingle.

“baby, check mark’s nightstand for a condom and lube,” johnny says.

taeyong frowns. he gets the need for lube, but “a condom?” he asks. “but i want—i want you to cum in me.”

johnny coos at him, rubbing his hand over taeyong’s navel before he grabs taeyong’s cock. “believe me, baby, i want that, too,” he says, “but i don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go back to the party still dripping with my cum.”

taeyong shivers. he wants that— _ god,  _ he fucking  _ wants  _ that—but he understands, and decides he’d be content with a compromise. “you could—pull out and cum in my mouth?” taeyong offers. “i just—it’s been so long, daddy. i wanna feel you.”

johnny shudders, giving taeyong’s cock a small squeeze before he strokes him, twisting his hand over the head. he kisses taeyong to swallow the noise taeyong makes, and pulls away again to say: “find us some lube, then, baby.”

taeyong scrambles to mark’s nightstand, where he knows for a fact mark keeps a bottle of ky. he pulls the drawer open and digs around until he finds it, making a triumphant little noise as he shows it to johnny.

“good boy,” johnny murmurs, taking the lube from taeyong’s hands. “spread your legs for me, sweetheart.”

doing as he’s told, taeyong lets his thighs fall open. johnny pops the cap on the lube, taeyong watching with bated breath as he slicks his fingers.

johnny grabs taeyong’s thigh with his clean hand, hiking taeyong’s leg up to spread him even wider. he rubs over taeyong’s hole with his lubed fingers to slick him before he pushed two inside, knuckle deep.

taeyong cries out, whimpering as johnny’s fingers curl up against his prostate. johnny shushes him, reminding him of the guests still downstairs. 

“fuck, you’re tight,” johnny groans, squeezing a third finger in next to his other two. he dips down so he can nuzzle taeyong’s belly, licking wetly over his skin. he noses over to taeyong’s cock and pressed a hot kiss over the head, plush lips sweet like rapture on taeyong’s needy flesh.

“ _ a-ah,  _ johnny,” taeyong whines, squirming on johnny’s fingers.

“shhh, just a little more,” johnny murmurs.

‘just a little more’ turns out to be johnny’s pinkie finger, pushed into taeyong’s hole alongside the other three. the stretch stings but taeyong’s cock is still drooling, leaving a puddle of slick under his navel.

finally,  _ finally,  _ johnny pulls his fingers out and grabs the lube again. he looks puzzled for a moment, staring down at his slicked hand and then to taeyong. taeyong gets it when johnny waggles his slicked fingers, pointing down towards the fly of his jeans.

“oh!” taeyong squeaks, propping himself up so he can pop the button on johnny’s jeans, yanking the zipper down and hooking his fingers into the waistband, tugging until johnny’s jeans are down around his thighs. johnny’s boxer briefs are next, and taeyong actually begins to salivate when he pulls the waistband down and johnny’s cock springs out.

taeyong can’t resist wrapping his hand around it, stroking a few times to watch as precome beads at the head, sliding down the shaft. taeyong chases it with his tongue, licking a broad stripe up johnny’s cock before he wraps his lips around the head.

johnny only lets taeyong suckle for a moment before he’s coaxing him off. “as much as i’d love to let you suck my cock, we don’t really have time for that if you still want me to fuck you, baby,” he says.

taeyong whimpers before he can stop himself, but he still falls back against the pillows again, open for johnny’s taking.

“so pretty,” johnny murmurs, almost absentmindedly, as he grabs the lube again and using it to slick his cock.

taeyong’s breath hitches as johnny pressed his cock to taeyong’s hole, holding for just a moment before he pushes inside.

a noise that he can’t force down escapes taeyong’s lips, and johnny pulls him into a kiss as he sinks inside his body. it’s like— _ god,  _ taeyong can’t even begin to describe the way it feels to have johnny deep inside him again. it’s like coming home and eloping to paradise, all wrapped together in one heady, thick feeling that settles in taeyong’s chest.

“daddy,” taeyong breathes, lips against lips. “you feel so  _ good.” _

“yeah?” johnny says, rocking into taeyong’s body, cock snug inside him like it’s always meant to be there. “you missed my cock, sweetheart?”

_ “yes,”  _ taeyong gasps as johnny pulls out almost completely before he fucks back in, cock bumping against taeyong’s prostate. “so much, i missed it so much.”

“did you think about me?” johnny asks, leaning in to taeyong’s space, until they’re nose to nose, johnny’s breath hot on his lips. “did you think about how i fucked you when you were with other boys? did you think about me when you were fucking  _ jaehyun?” _

the questions hangs heavy in the air between them, and johnny’s thrusts become deeper, rougher as he waits for taeyong’s answer. 

taeyong’s words get clogged in his throat, his body being shunted up the bed from how roughly johnny is screwing him. he whimpers, hands curling weakly into  johnny’s hair.

“tell me,” johnny demands. “tell me, taeyong. did he fuck you like i do?”

_ “no,”  _ taeyong gasps, finding his words once more. “he never—jaehyun, he never—never fucked me. i  _ lied,  _ i w-wanted to make you jealous. nobody’s—nobody’s fucked me since you.”

that makes johnny take pause, and his hips stutter for a moment before they regain their deep, smooth rhythm. “baby,” johnny breathes, an emotion in his voice that taeyong can’t quite place, “were you saving yourself for me?”

“‘s stupid,” taeyong says, cheeks pinking and eyes falling closed. “i tried once, when i first got to school, but it was—so  _ bad.  _ he couldn’t—he couldn’t fuck me like you did.”

“that’s right, baby,” johnny says. “ _ nobody _ can fuck you like i do.”

johnny reaches between their bodies and cups taeyong’s cock, a punched out noise escaping taeyong as johnny strokes him. it’s quick, rough, taeyong’s toes curling, head going a little fuzzy.

“f-fuck, daddy, i’m—“ taeyong whines, torn between fucking up into johnny’s fist or down onto his cock— “‘m gonna—‘m gonna cum.”

“yeah?” johnny breathes, “let me see you, sweetheart.”

taeyong whimpers, pulling johnny into another kiss. he moans against johnny’s mouth, panting like he’s fevered, noises teetering on the edge of too loud, desperation making him selfish. johnny lets go of his cock for to hike his legs up onto the crook of his elbows, ducking down to his kiss him again, bending taeyong nearly in half, knees to ears.

the angle changes as johnny’s cock pounds right up against taeyong’s prostate. pleasure floods taeyong’s body in waves, his hands dropping from johnny’s hair to scrabble desperately over johnny’s shoulders, his chest. 

his cock is  _ throbbing,  _ his balls drawing up tighter as johnny’s cock abuses his prostate.  _ god,  _ it’s been so long since someone else has made taeyong cum, and johnny’s about to make taeyong bust his load all over himself, without even having to pay an ounce of attention to taeyong’s drooling cock.

“fuck, yes,  _ yes,  _ daddy, ‘m gonna cum, ‘m gonna  _ cum, f-fu—ah!”  _

taeyong’s orgasm wracks through him almost violently, cock lurching against his belly as he covers himself in his own release. johnny fists his cock to jerk him off through the tail end of it, and taeyong whines, high and reedy, when johnny keeps stroking him even after he’s gone oversensitive. 

“so fucking pretty when you cum, baby,” johnny says, voice so low and rough that he nearly growls it. “wish i had time to make you cum over and over.”

“n-next time,” taeyong says. 

whether johnny realizes the implication or not, taeyong doesn’t think it matters, not when johnny presses their foreheads together and agrees, “next time.”

sensitivity sets his nerves on live wire, taeyong whining and whimpering almost uncontrollably as johnny keeps fucking him, chasing his own orgasm with taeyong’s willing body. 

“you’re close?” taeyong breathes, voice small. “are y’gonna—gonna cum, daddy?”

johnny groans, dropping his head to mouth along taeyong’s collarbones. “f-fuck yeah, i’m gonna—“ johnny grunts, biting into taeyong’s skin as his hips stutter, and when he pulls back next, he pulls out completely. “get on your knees,” johnny commands, stepping back to give taeyong space, fisting his cock in his hand.

taeyong scrambles up as quickly as he can, dropping to the floor, knobby knees thumping against the carpet. johnny’s on him immediately, fisting taeyong’s hair with his free hand and shoving his cock between taeyong’s parted lips.

taeyong gags, not entirely prepared for johnny’s cock down his throat. johnny doesn’t seem to care, gripping taeyong’s hair to keep him where he wants him while he fucks taeyong’s mouth.

“shit,  _ shit,  _ baby, you’re so good,” johnny groans, cock throbbing against taeyong’s tongue. taeyong moans, squeezing his eyes shut, and johnny curses again, pulling his cock out.

eyes closed, taeyong can’t see it, but he can hear the slick sounds as johnny jerks himself off, and the way he moans before taeyong’s face is being covered in cum. it stripes over taeyong’s lips, his cheek, his eyelid, taeyong opening his mouth to catch the last few spurts on his tongue.

johnny’s moans stutter off as he jerks the last few drops of cum from his cock, pushing it back inside taeyong’s mouth for just a moment before he pulls out again. “show me,” johnny says.

taeyong opens his mouth, sticking his tongue out so johnny can see the cum pooled there. johnny curses, and then there are fingers scooping the cum from his cheek and out of his eyelashes, johnny pushing them into his mouth so he can lick them  clean.

they sit silent for a moment, just breathing in each other’s space, before johnny breaks the moment with an embarrassed chuckle.

“let me find you a tissue,” he says, and when taeyong finally cracks an eye open, he sees johnny rummaging around mark’s room, jeans still undone and cock still out. taeyong giggles, a bit hysterical, suddenly struck by how  _ ridiculous  _ the situation here.

johnny makes a small, victorious noise as he locates a small, travel sized pack of tissues in mark’s sock drawer. he tears the pack open and hands a couple of the tissues to taeyong, who takes them gratefully.

taeyong wipes at the stickiness on his face, watching idly as johnny tucks his cock back into his jeans and adjusts the rest of his outfit. he runs a hand through his hair, tousling it. it almost pisses taeyong off, how put together johnny can look only minutes after they just got done fucking like a pair of rabbits. 

johnny gathers taeyong’s clothes, and offers them to him once he’s finished wiping himself off. 

“sorry i made such a mess of you,” johnny says, a sheepish smile on his face. 

“‘s okay,” taeyong says, standing so he can start to put his clothes back on. he starts with his briefs, then his jeans, and then his obnoxious sweater. johnny watches him dresses, eyes half lidded. “i liked it.”

“mm, come here,” johnny says, opening his arms. taeyong does as he’s told, getting wrapped up in johnny’s embrace and tugged into a chaste kiss. when they part, johnny stares at him for a moment, brows furrowed. “we should probably talk about this—“ taeyong frowns, and johnny soothes his expression— “hey, stop that. it’s not a bad thing, just—if we’re gonna do this, we need to figure some stuff out.”

_ if we’re gonna do this.  _ taeyong mulls that over. he’s not exactly sure what johnny means by  _ this— _ just fucking? dating? keeping it casual?—but the potential is enough to make butterflies flutter in taeyong’s belly. 

“yeah,” taeyong says, “you’re right.”

johnny smiles sweetly at him. “it can wait though, until next time. we should really get back to the party, before someone comes looking for us.”

taeyong nods, a small flush coloring his cheeks. “do i look okay?” 

johnny hums, reaching up to smooth taeyong’s hair. “you look lovely,” he says.

taeyong ducks out of mark’s room first, johnny trailing behind him. when they get downstairs, taeyong can hear the chatter coming from the living room, grateful that nobody seems to have noticed their abnormally long absence.

taeyong rounds the corner back into the living room, and almost instantly meets jaehyun’s eyes. his expression is full of questions, and his eyes nearly bug out of his skull when he sees johnny come in after taeyong, putting two and two together. 

taeyong scrambles back to the couch, sitting down on it and trying to ignore the way jaehyun’s gaze is burning a hole in the side of his head.

“where’d mark go?” taeyong asks, trying to sound nonchalant. he watches johnny takes a seat next to taeyong’s mother on the other sofa and that’s—a little

to weird for taeyong to see at the moment. johnny catches his eye and shrugs, a light pink flush on his cheeks.

“kitchen,” jaehyun says, following taeyong’s gaze. “oh my  _ god,  _ taeyong. you didn’t.”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” taeyong says, feigning innocence.

“jesus christ. you did, didn’t you?” jaehyun’s tone is stuck somewhere between disbelief and idolatry. “you totally just got fucked by mark’s dad. at a  _ christmas party.” _

jaehyun whispers the last part, voice so thin it’s nearly a hiss. taeyong’s cheeks burn.

“shut up,” taeyong says.

“oh my god,” jaehyun repeats. “i don’t know if i should be appalled or extremely proud of you. i think i’m somewhere in between.”

mark chooses that moment to come back into the living room, carrying another plate of food, so taeyong chooses to shoot jaehyun a look that he hopes jaehyun reads as  _ stop talking right now or i’ll literally kill you  _ instead of responding out loud.

“oh, there you are!” mark says as he sits back down. “i started to wonder where you got off to.”

jaehyun makes a choking sound, and taeyong feels himself flush even hotter.

“i, uh, had to go to the bathroom,” he says. “i got sidetracked on the way back by your dad. we uh, talked about how college has been.”

“oh, cool,” mark says, accepting the lie with ease, and taeyong deflates, relief flooding through him. jaehyun has nearly gone purple with how hard he’s trying to hold in his laugh.

thankfully, the party winds down without another incident. taeyong’s mother decides when it’s time to go as well when mr and mrs park announce that they’re leaving, bidding johnny and mark polite goodbyes as she ushers taeyong, jaehyun, and taeyong’s father to the door.

taeyong purposely drags his feet as he’s getting his shoes on, making it so his mom and dad have already walked out onto the porch before him. jaehyun catches on to what he’s doing and rolls his eyes before he leaves taeyong to his devices.

“bye, mark,” taeyong calls. “bye, mr seo.”

“bye!” mark chirps from the sofa.

johnny meets taeyong’s eyes, a sly grin on his face. “goodbye, taeyong,” he says. “see you next time.”

taeyong’s cheeks go hot, and he scurries out the door before he can make a fool of himself, the promise of  _ next time  _ burning in his veins. 

taeyong catches up to jaehyun and his parents, feeling airy, like he’s walking on cloud nine. jaehyun just shakes his head.

as he’s walking into the front door and tugging his shoes off, his phone buzzes in his pocket. he pulls it out, pulse thudding in his ears when he sees who the message is from.

_ mr seo (8:17PM): _

_ so, about next time…… _

_ mr seo (8:18PM): _

_ i was thinking i’d come visit you at school _

taeyong grins, tapping out a reply and hitting send.

_ taeyong (8:18PM): _

_ looking forward to it, daddy  _

**Author's Note:**

> [twit](https://twitter.com/_yeolocity)


End file.
